The first night, Saga
by ar-men15
Summary: Saga's POW about her night at the singles club in season 3


Why did I decide to go there?  
Why did I leave with him, of every man, him?  
I have the itch, yes, it has been a few weeks of abstinence, this new case and Hanne's leg not exactly a motivation to go finding men.  
I've used my hands to bring me release. A strange feeling lingered after, something at the edge of my visual field that I cannot define.  
And I'm nervous because illogical things are unnatural for me.  
Then I see her and I understand.  
Some bonds cannot be severed although you do try to erase your own mother for twenty years.  
Hans hugs me, he says I need it; Hans is a wise man, so I need to be hugged.  
And a little knock on the glass wall, a little cough to alert of the presence.  
I turn.  
A man is standing outside Hans' office.  
Dark brown hair, facial hairs, deep blue eyes.  
For every beauty standard, a gorgeous sight.  
Dressed in multiple layers of clothes, unpractical to botton up and down every morning and evening.  
I've got a new Dane to work with.  
A man, like Martin. So different from Martin. His apperance, refined, studied.  
A more than average man, one difficult to get in bars, because already with a woman or searching someone charming like him.  
Ten minutes later we are full in our case. He 's soon into the role. Why Lillian sent him? I want an explanation for her choice. I could try asking Hans, she's his wife after all.  
I see he has a soft smile, a little too fast, too ready to come to the surface.  
An hour later we go man hunting, adrenaline running under our skins, I notice in him the changes, he becomes a detective in charge. The way he scans the crime scene, control meticulously every detail.  
A day after he drives to Malmo very late in the evening when Hans is kidnapped. At first I think it is for Lillian, they sit close at the office kitchen table. How he is related to Lillian can explain why she picked him.  
He doesn't stay at the station with her, he's out with me, he wants to be with me fully to find Hans. I don't need to be with someone, I'm perfeclty able to work by myself.  
He's good, though. Somehow, he notices things fast, faster than me.  
He gets details I fail to see.  
He touches my hand when I'm pointing my gun at Rikard's head.  
At first I'm too concentrated to notice how close he comes to me, how tense he is, too, then our fingers gets in contact and I sense an electric current between us. It is only a chemical body reaction, stress induced.  
I need a distraction. I need a man to get rid of this case, of my worries about Hans in a coma, of my mother's appearance. My father is dying and I think about Hans only.  
His club can be an idea, I register online, pay the fee and go to next meeting.  
First thing I see is him.  
A chance meeting, nothing more. I cannot predict he'd be there at the same event, same time, races are all evening long and I've arrived quite late from work.  
He appears more charming than in everyday life, he smells sandals, a hint of cocoa and a thrid fragrance that I cannot define. But it suits him well.  
I politely talk with him then go searching for a man.  
It should be easy, they are here for the same reason, easier than in a bar.  
The first one tells me it is too sudden for him.  
The second looks at my clothes from boots to shirt and scrolls his head. Do I have a stain? Do I smell bad?  
The third excuses himself after I say a simple hello.  
I lean on a wall, a glass of water in my hand. The barman tells me I can get alcohol for free being in the club. I refuse. I want to be perfectly able to pick up the man I choose.  
I calculate the members of the club are more men than women, a 6 to 4 rapport, so it must be likely for me.  
And the people without the green tag aren't the majority, there is a poster on the entrance wall that informs of the club meeting and I think the organization has reserved places for the members.  
I notice he's staring at me, sat in a corner, alone.  
Why he's not looking for a partner? Does he want to take roots on that spot?  
When I look at him he turns his head.  
I move to the lower area, where people watches the races on ground level from large windows.  
There's a tall man, wearing a wool cardigan, unshaved. He's older than my average guy but tonight the youngs aren't my catch.  
I try to change approach, he looks at me,I smile. He wears dark glasses, like he tries to hide his face.  
He's holding a glass with a amber drink and sips from it, observing me.  
I keep my gaze on him, soon he empties the glass and heads for the bar to refill it.  
Drunk man are useless, they don't last for long and seldom can peform twice in the same night.  
Another failure.  
I decide to sit for a while and see if someone comes to me.  
There are less people around now, the majorithy has reached the goal, couples are talking around small tables or are leaving the place.  
I hear the signal of the last race.  
I busy myself in watching it, having nothing else to do, then I turn my back to the arena.  
I'm leaving soon. There is something in this place that I cannot grasp.  
And I see him coming close, he sits near me.  
He hasn't find a mate yet. Why?  
What is he looking for?  
I want to know. A man so handsome can hunt easily, is he for long term stories?  
He don't answer my questions, he hints that he's like me.  
He grabs what the gets.  
No complications, no commitments.  
Only later I realise he hasn't speak out clearly about that.  
He just follows my proposal.  
Follows me out of the arena, along the bridge, in my apartment.  
Follows my instructions, never complaining.  
He stays the night, I allow him to do so.  
His presence is becoming natural for me. It 's practical to wake up together and go to work. If I get some ideas about the case I simply wake him up.  
I lay on the bed, observing him while he gets udnressed, all those layers and i m curious to know what's under, to see his skin, to feel him under my fingers.  
A flash. I'm sure I've dreamed already to peel clothes off him, now I reckon something was boiling under the surface since the first time we met.  
His weigth on the bed, his gaze on me.  
He likes what he sees, he's soon over me.  
No time wasted on preliminaries, he just asks me to touch him and he reciprocates, sliding his fingers into me.  
We're so ready.  
He knows well what he's doing.  
At first he seems unsure when he listens to my rules. For a brief moment it seems all wrong, I've picked up the wrong man.  
He gets confidence, soon his attitude changes.  
No inexpert or clumsy boy, he's a man.  
I smell all his scent now, I got the missing fragrance, cedar and bergamot, his skin is hotter for the physical exertion and the reaction is pleasant to smell.  
He's good. Not the best I got, but he can get better next time.  
Wait.  
Does it mean I want him again?  
Next week, next month?  
I've never made assumptions before regarding a future with my one night stands.  
He's performing well, I'm close to the edge, loosing focus, he calls me, wants us to peak together, see if he can do it.  
His eyes lock with mine, I want to see his face when he comes. We're close, both, the telltale signs...  
Yes.  
Yes!  
I want this with him again.  
With this colleague.  
First time with someone from work, someone who's more than a generic colleague.  
With my brand new partner.  
The man I work with so well.  
Like Martin, who was only a friend.  
He's more than that and I don't know why. I miss the facts that can explain what is happening with him.  
Before surrendering myself to sleep, knowing he'll be here in the morning, I understand.  
I haven't choose him tonight.  
I'm not the hunter this time.  
All his words and his silences get a whole new meaning.  
He's got a purpose.  
Me.  
It wasn't Lillian's idea, it was his, I'm sure..  
He was looking for me.  
He already wanted me.


End file.
